Butterflies
by Battle Ferrets
Summary: Have you started to see the little gold butterflies yet? Have they come and claimed you? One-shot. R&R. ---Jasper


   Weird inspiration here. I decided to choose a word out of the dictionary and write whatever came to mind. This one-shot is what came of it. 

   Dedicated to my luffable Hikari, Reana1 (like I have anyone else I would dedicate anything to; check her out!) and Nek0-chan (okay, I lied. She is a great writer and you should definitely check her out!). 

   Warnings include weirdness, OOC-ness, Jasper-ness and insanity.

   Thank you and try to keep your sanity intact. Take a jab at what this entire thing means… no worries about getting it wrong or getting laughed at… I barely understand it and _I_ wrote the damned thing! ^.-.^;

   Anyway, read and review!

****

   **Butterflies**

   **_Push_**

   _"The sun's rim dips; the stars rush out: At one stride comes the dark"_

   **push** /poosh/ _v_ **1** _vti_ press against somebody or something in order to move them **2** _vti_ advance or cause to advance using pressure or force **3** _vt_ encourage somebody strongly **4** _vt_ exploit something to the limit * _Don't push your luck_. **5** _vt_ force something to change *** _n_ **1** an application of pressure **2** the process of advancing **3** an energetic effort **4** a stimulus ---**push-ing** _adj_ ---**push-ing-ly** _adv_  ~ **when** _or_ **if push comes to shove** at the point when something must be done or a decision must be made

   _You shouldn't be here._

   The thought came to him as soon as he set foot inside the door. Something was wrong in the building. _Very_ wrong. He shrugged off his jacket and hung it on one of the small hooks on the coat rack, toeing off his shoes with the same carelessness, kicking them into the entranceway closet.

   His head swung on his neck like a wary fox about to walk into the chicken's hatch, wary for the farmer who would have the gun and bullets ready. He took a cautious step off of the mat that had the single word _Welcome_ on the front in warm cinnamon on a background of beige. The floor protested beneath his socked feet, seeming to be saying _How would you like to switch me places for a day and get stepped on over and over again with no one caring how you feel or just how sore you are while they can move freely while you are stuck down here to be trod on for all of ever and_- it protested very loudly.

   Making his way down the hall, he poked his head around the corner. He was half expecting to see _something_ in the living room and so when he was greeted by its emptiness, he grew edgy and threw a nervous glance behind him. Taking a deep breath, he placed one foot through the doorframe. This floor was tired of complaining and allowed him passage with not a sound.

   He glanced at the steps that led upstairs, 

_(thirteen steps)_

the steps that he hadn't walked up for three 

   _Three already? It seems much shorter than that._

years suddenly stretched out to become twenty, twenty-five, thirty steps.

   He got the urge to suddenly flee the house and leave forever, never looking back, just running until he dropped dead from exhaustion. There was nothing for him at the house, and it wasn't like anyone was going to-

_(go away)_

   He just about turned around right then and there and high-tailed it out of the house as fast as his nimble legs could carry him. Just about, but something stopped him, a kind of tugging at his heart. His hand tightened on the banister and he lifted his chin up, strengthening his resolve to go upstairs.

   He tried to lift one foot and place it on the first step, surprised at how much he really didn't want to go to the next floor. Who knew what was awaiting him around the corner when he arrived at the top of the stairs?

   He chided himself for his childishness. He was stronger than that, and all he could do now was put one foot in front of the other, slowly rising to whatever waited for him at the top. On the seventh step his breath was faster and heavier. It was almost like something 

_(someone)_

was trying to keep him from climbing those last six steps.

   Shaking his head, he lifted his foot. With a show of will he placed it down and proceeded from there, until he was finally on the top floor, panting heavily from the lack of air that just wouldn't enter his constricted lungs.

   He peeked around the corner, breathing a sigh of relief when a clawed hand didn't reach out and tear his face off. A little voice in the back of his mind told him he was being ridiculous, monsters just didn't exist.

   He told the voice to shut-up.

   The door at the end of the hall was his destination. Walking slowly towards it, he realized he was crouching low, like he was a murderer in the darkness.

_(but you are yes you are)_

   He quickly straightened and continued down the hall, stopping in front of the closed bedroom door. He lifted a hand and hesitated. Did he really want to knock on the door? Did he really want to see what was in the room?

_(blood)_

Of course he did.

   He rapped 

_(boogey-man has come-a-knockin')_

on the door, three knuckle-taps in quick succession. Silence greeted him and he was beginning to think he had been wrong, that everything was all right and the urge to hurry home

_(so much blood)_

was nothing but a false alarm. He would have convinced himself if not for the absolute _wrongness_ of the situation.

   "Come in," A soft voice drifted through the thin wood of the door, barely more than a whisper. Yet it drilled into his head like a hot poker, and he once again had the urge to

_(go away)_

run but now that he knew, he wasn't about to go like nothing was wrong. 

   He put his hand on the doorknob and turned it, pushing the door open. The door creaked on its hinges

_(don' wanna open)_

and light from the hall flooded into the bedroom, illuminating the form sprawled on the bed. The room was covered in

_(where did all this blood come from)_

clothes and papers, strewn about in a careless fashion, in obvious need of tidying up. The owner of the room rolled over.

   "Yami?" The form on the bed mumbled, despair and loneliness so layered in that one word that the intruder took a step back before rushing towards his partners side.

   "Yugi, what happened?" The once-pharaoh asked in genuine concern, pulling the thin man into his arms. Ra, but he was so thin, he was nothing more than skin and bones. It was then that he noticed his hair; he had cut it short.

   A laugh escaped from Yugi's lips, and Yami got a sudden chill down his 

_(watch for that glint)_

spine and he pulled away from the small man. A concerned look spread over his face when he looked into Yugi's eyes. Dead, soulless windows stared back at him, tinted crimson by pain and sorrow that he had kept hidden for too long.

   "Is something funny, Yugi?" He asked. He would have been lying if he denied being scared at that moment. Something wasn't right. In fact, something was very _wrong_. But he had known that since the moment he had walked into

_(hell)_

the house.

   The smaller man shook his head, a light smile that never so much as got within a universe of reaching his eyes playing on his lips. "No, nothing wrong. Want some hot chocolate?"

   Yami shrugged, hugging his light once more. "I don't see why not." He let the scrawny figure out of his arms, standing up and following him out of the bedroom, down the stairs, through the living room and into

_(dark oh so dark)_

the kitchen. He was surprised at how unused and clean it looked. It almost looked like it had been sterilized, like it was being preserved for another era altogether and that Yugi never so much as put a toe within its boundaries.

   "So how have you been Yugi? I haven't seen you for a while."

   Yugi laughed, pouring some water into a kettle and plugging it in. "Understatement of the year," He replied easily, taking two glasses out of the cupboard and setting them on the 

_(bloody)_

counter with twin clanks. He turned around and the look on his face made Yami wish he was in another world at the moment. "Where have you _been_, Yami?"

   His voice chilled the once-pharaoh to the bone, and he shivered visibly. Wrapping his arms around himself, he avoided eye contact from the lifeless gaze of Yugi's eyes and suddenly became very interested in an imaginary speck of

_(darkness)_

dirt on the kitchen table.

   "Around," He supplied, shifting in his chair uncomfortably. "I've been around."

   "Well _that_ explains everything." Yugi said quietly, a cutting edge in his voice. "You didn't think you could leave a note or something? Or did you just think that I'd know that you were alright even though you disappeared off the face of the planet with no good-bye, no phone call, not even a note?"

   Yami winced. "It's not like that Yugi, I-"

   "Don't lie to me."

   The command was laced with venom and Yami's head snapped up, his eyes finally meeting Yugi's. He was repulsed by the loathing he saw within them, and a voice in the back of his head was screaming for him to get out. He ignored it.

   "Why would I lie to you?" He asked, brow furrowed in puzzlement. What had happened to his kind and innocent Yugi? The one he had cherished so long ago, the one who had

_(died)_

promised him that they would always be there for each other and that nothing could break their bond?

   _He disappeared when you broke those same promises to him._

   Yugi growled and glared at Yami. "I don't know," He grated out, hands fisted and resting on the counter. "Maybe because you have before?"

   Yami's head dropped in submission. He remembered making those promises back to Yugi, remembered them very well, and he had done everything but keep them. "Alright, I won't lie," He yielded, running a hand through his hair, once again noticing that Yugi had nearly cut all of his off. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly; the truth was going to hurt. "I left because I needed to do some thinking, away from everyone I knew and loved. I would have said good-bye, Yugi, but in truth I knew that if I talked to you once, my resolve would crumble and I would come running back, and I couldn't have that happen."

   Yugi nodded, though he didn't look very happy. Scratch that, he looked _livid_. "And next you're going to tell me that you magically forgot how to write and so you couldn't leave a note?"

_(dead men are walking)_

   Yami hung his head in shame. "I didn't want to give you any hint of where I was going, and my note would have simply said good-bye anyway. There really wasn't much for me to say."

   The shrill whistling of the kettle halted their conversation and Yugi busied himself with making the hot cocoa. He poured the water into the cups and added two tablespoons of cocoa and two mini-marshmallows to each, stirring them thoroughly. He sat across from Yami once he had handed the mug over to the once-pharaoh.

   They looked at each other for a very long time, both seeming to have a loss of words, though it was evident that many things needed to be said. Yugi finally broke the uncomfortable silence.

   "Where did you go for those three years?"

   Yami stopped playing with the marshmallows in his cocoa and looked up, cringing when confronted by emotionless crimson eyes. He sighed and returned his attention to the hot

_(blood)_

cocoa filled mug in his hands. "Everywhere."

   Yugi arched an eyebrow. "Care to expand?"

   Yami snorted. "What are you, my counsellor?" He snapped, his eyes narrowing in accusation at the one person who had managed to make him come out of his protective shell those many years ago. He immediately regretted his words and pinched the bridge of his nose, looking down at the way to clean table. "I'm sorry Yugi, life hasn't been all that kind to me. I went looking for my past, and I didn't want to intrude on your life any more. You were young and had your entire lifetime ahead of you. You had more important things to worry about then babysitting one lost and forgotten Pharaoh day in and day out."

   The pause after his statement was considerably long and uncomfortable. The two just sat there and sipped from their mugs once in a while, until 

_(the glint watch for the glint)_

Yami spoke up once again.

   "I travelled the world, looking for hints of the Nameless Pharaoh, as I found myself to be dubbed in history. I found absolutely nothing, even though I searched for two years."

   Yugi caught the time span. "Two years? But you have been gone for nearly three now," He pointed out.

   Yami nodded. "For the first year I worked for enough money to go wherever I needed to go or wherever my search led me. I was a writer for quite some time, and you might have read some of my books. They were written under the name _Yuugi Kauno_, and some of the titles included '_Yu-Gi-Oh!_', '_Kokoro no Naka_' and '_Nani?_'." 

   Yugi's eyes hardened. "I've read them." The dead quality to his voice was unnerving. "And I suppose you think it's real funny to come waltzing back here after three years, expecting forgiveness and understanding and everything to go back to the way it used to be."

   Yugi stood up and Yami followed suit, not liking the glint that appeared in Yugi's eyes. Yugi gathered up the cups, spoons and kettle and put them in the dishwasher, closing the

_(book)_

door with a loud bang that made Yami jump.

   Yugi turned around and gave Yami a look. 

   Yami swallowed and found himself looking around the room like a trapped rabbit. His eyes eventually found Yugi's face again, only to widen considerably. Looking back at him was not his innocent Yugi, the one he had sworn by his life to protect.

   "You don't know what I've been through while you took this little _trip_ of yours, Yami."

   Yami tried to make his face one of pity, but found it hard when that glint was in Yugi's eyes. "Why don't we sit down and you can tell me?" He suggested, motioning with one hand at the two person table in the corner of the kitchen. He was again struck by the sterilised quality of the room; the table looked as if unused despite having been sat at mere moments ago.

   Yugi shook his head and gave a small smile that

_(told you to watch for the glint)_

spoke volumes, yet didn't give anything away. "No, I don't think so, Yami. I think that we're through talking. I'm not the precious little light that you treasured with all your heart anymore, I've become a man of action, and there is no time like the present to take action."

   Yami was becoming confused. Yugi wasn't making any sense, and he was, for the first time ever since he had met the shy and friendly teenager, scared him. 

   Before Yami could say anything, Yugi spoke up. "You are bad, Yami. Have you started to see the little gold butterflies yet? Have they come and claimed you?" He was leaning forward, over the counter, truly needing to know Yami's answer.

   _Oh Ra, he's lost it._

   The thought hurt Yami more then a sharp blade could. He had just admitted to himself that he thought that Yugi might be less than sane. But there was that glint in Yugi's eyes, and though he couldn't quite place what it said, he was positive that it wasn't a good thing.

   Yami shook his head slowly. "No, Yugi, the butterflies haven't come to see me."

   Yugi's head hung, and Yami was sure he was crying. He thought that the creature that had ensnared his little light might have been banished by the negative response, and hope flared in his heart

_(too much blood)_

and he was ready to sweep Yugi into his arms, showing him the love he needed and craved above all. The desperate hopes which clouded his mind, creating an illusion that he would have been quite happy living within shattered when Yugi threw back his head and

_(oh the glint watch out for glinting)_

laughed, a hysterical edge to the sound.

   Yami edged away the tiniest fraction, not sure whether to talk to Yugi or run. He finally chose neither and stood in Yugi's presence, waiting for the man to stop laughing. 

   When Yugi did finally stop, it was so sudden that Yami had to do a double take before it finally registered in his mind. He blinked and he focused on Yugi's face, blanching 

_(when the bodies hit the floor)_

when he saw the murderous glint in the non-innocent's eyes.

   Yugi grinned, and the show of teeth was too wide to be sane. "Oh well."

   Oh well? _Oh well?_ He talked about gold butterflies, burst into hysterical laughter and grinned like a madman, and all he had to say was Oh well? He had thought that something was wrong with the house, but he realized

_(too late)_

now that it wasn't the house, but the only living soul within the house; given, a very tortured soul.

   "Yugi, what has gotten into you?" He demanded, sweat rolling down his face. He was scared, and he wouldn't deny it. He would be a fool to deny it. 

   Yugi giggled, a shrill sound that hurt Yami's ears to listen too; it sounded like a crow imitating a high-school girl tittering over a naughty joke about her

_(sanity)_

virginity or lack there of. He put a hand over his face and laughed with his head down and his back and shoulders shaking with his inner mirth.

   "You really want to know?" He asked quite suddenly, peeking at Yami through his fingers, his eyes pools of blood in the shadowed confines of his hands. "Do you honestly _really_ want to know, Yami?"

   Some way that he asked, or maybe a slight change of the glint in his eyes set off alarms in his mind, heart and soul that told him he was anything but safe at the moment.

   "The butterflies came to me two months after you left," Yugi started, not taking his hand away from his face. "And they showed me the door, leaving it up to me if I wanted to open it or not." 

   Yami understood that if he wanted to help Yugi, he would have to find out what these 'butterflies' that Yugi kept talking about were. "What are the butterflies? Can you show them to me?"

   This seemed to strike a funny spot in the short man because he started to giggle again, leaning against the counter to keep from falling on the floor. His hand never left his

_(blood lust)_

face and Yami edged back another fraction of an inch.

   When he managed to get a hold of himself, Yugi peered at Yami through his fingers again. "If you don't see the butterflies, I can't show them to you. Are you so blind that you can't see them? They're everywhere, always watching, always waiting. When the time is right, they touch you."

   Realizing that this might be his last chance to bring his not-so-little light back to sanity, he decided to play along. "What happens when they touch you?"

   Yugi's grin nearly split his face in half, or what could be seen of it. "You finally go through the door."

   "Yugi? What door?" Yami asked. No sooner had he spoken then Yugi flew from behind the counter, a large serrated knife in his left hand, his right hand still covering his face.

   Yami saw the knife and understood that the Yugi he had known was dead replaced by something much darker. An idea dawned on him

_(true darkness)_

but he had no time to ponder on it; the thing wielding the knife dashed at him with inhuman speed. He managed to spin out of the way, running into the living room, hearing the knife embed in the wall behind him and a loud curse following.

   Yami, for reasons unknown besides the fact that he was panicking, chose to fly up the stairs instead of out the door. He heard the dark thing on his heels, and his heart jumped into his throat when his foot caught on the thirteenth

_(unlucky number it is)_

step. He caught himself before he flew onto the second floor and into the wall at the top of the stairs. Regaining his balance, he ran to Yugi's bedroom, his mind convincing him that he could escape through that route.

   It wasn't until he was in the bedroom that he grasped the concept that there was no other exit other than the door 

_(don' wanna open)_

which he had just ran through.

   The very door that the evil thing that was impersonating Yugi was blocking, large knife still clenched in one hand. It still held a hand over its face, and ruby eyes glittered and whirled in the darkness.

   "What have you done with Yugi?" He demanded of the creature, backing away a step with a snarl. The demonic thing laughed, a grating sound that made the once-pharaoh wince and back up another step while trying to resist the temptation to cover his ears.

   The entity smirked, pointy pearly teeth flashing and crimson pools glinting between pale fingers. "Haven't you figured it out yet, _Yami_?" The thing asked, spitting out Yami's name like it was a disease or a vile being that had crawled out of the bowels of the earth. " I _am_ Yugi."

   "Quit talking in riddles!" Yami growled, his hands clenched in fists beside him. Beads of sweat rolled down his face, and his hair and clothing clung to him uncomfortably.

   The being laughed. "How can I talk in riddles when the answer's in front of your face? I tell the truth when I say I'm Yugi. You call yourself Yami, meaning darkness, correct?"

   Yami nodded hesitantly, looking for an escape from the corners of his eyes while trying not to attract attention to the fact. He wasn't discreet enough, though, for the dark thing laughed.

   "Don't bother trying to run, there is nowhere you can go that I won't be able to find you." The thing said. Yami realized with a sudden chill that the being spoke the truth and that he might as well accept defeat now.

   "We'll see about that." He never was one to give in easily before, and he sure wasn't going to start now. "You were explaining what you were?"

   "What I am? I am Yugi. I am all the pain and bitterness that he felt towards you, I am what he created when he started to take the blade to his flesh, when he spilled his beautiful crimson tears everywhere." Ruby eyes glittering crazily, hand never wavering from its position from the things face. "He was at first repulsed by what he had become, but I showed him just how lovely the butterflies were."

   Yami backed up another step and fell backwards on the bed when he found it to be directly behind him. The thing advanced, darkness shrouding it and causing all light to run with its tail tucked between its legs, leaving the room deep darkness.

   "You really _must_ see the butterflies."

   And Yami finally saw them. They were beautiful, and gold just as the thing had said they were, though he had failed to say exactly how beautiful. There were no words to describe the ecstasy that he felt watching them. He returned his attention to the dark thing after an endless eternity watching the butterflies.

   The thing lowered its hand from its face. Yami screamed and screamed and screamed, continuing even when the evil dark thing his innocent little light had pushed to be and had been pushed into becoming pounced upon him in a mad frenzy.

   The butterflies swarmed together and surrounded them.

   ~*~*~*~*~_"Dark with excessive bright."_~*~*~*~*~ 

   Yugi watched from the corner of the room, sad violet eyes witnessing the murder of Yami. Not _his_ Yami. Just Yami. _His_ Yami was strong and beautiful. _His_ Yami would never leave him. _His_ Yami had sworn to always be there and not let anyone hurt him.

   Yami-darkness had sworn to get rid of all Yugi's worries. Yami was one of Yugi's worries and so Yami-darkness went through with his promise. He had kept his promise. Yami had not. And everyone knows that it is impossible for a person to have two Yami's. One had to go, and the choice was Yugi's to make.

   Blood spattered on the walls, floor, ceiling, bed, dresser, desk, chair, nightstand and the watchful being in the corner; everything was crying crimson. The screams had stopped a long time ago, and Yugi was amazed at how much crimson could be shed from one worry. Yugi was little more than a child, and his Yami-darkness sent a sunny grin in his direction, eyes the colour of blood that his room had been repainted in sparkling.

   A single gold butterfly fluttered past his face, and he watched it with a child's fascination. He reached a hand out to touch it, but some force stopped him when his finger was but mere fractions of an inch from brushing against the glowing butterfly. He gave up and allowed the butterfly to fly on by without being bothered.

   Yugi stood up when his Yami-darkness stopped plunging the knife into the dead worry that would never again plague Yugi. Yami-darkness grinned again, the entire room lighting up with the sheer joy contained in that show of teeth. The now crimson blade that Yami-darkness held in his hand was offered to Yugi, and he gladly took it, licking the crimson tears off. 

   "Yami must have been very sad," Yugi started, offering the blade back to his Yami-darkness. "To cry so much." He motioned with his hand to indicate the blood coating everything in the room.

   Yami-darkness nodded sadly, declining the presented knife and running a hand fondly through Yugi's spiky multi-colored hair. His own hair wouldn't grow and therefore stayed moderately short, though it was his little light that insisted that he keep it that way, and who was he to defy Yugi's wishes?

   "Yes, he was very sad, but he's touched the butterflies, so everything is all better." He explained, pulling Yugi into a warm embrace, the crimson tears coating him from the very dead Yami spreading to Yugi who embraced him back with as much love and adoration as his Yami-darkness showed.

   As the two figures stood in each other's arms, an entire swarm of golden lights illuminated the room, turning the fresh coat of paint into a fiery sunset. The two watched in awe as the butterflies alighted on every surface except the two beings in the corner of the room.

   Yugi felt a tear, not the crimson kind, trickle down his face and he pressed his face against Yami-darkness' welcoming chest. "When will we get to touch the butterflies?"

   Yami-darkness looked down at Yugi and smiled, crimson tear-coated blade slowly rotating behind Yugi's back to ensure full penetration, the knife long enough to impale both of them with its kiss of freedom. "Soon, little one. Very soon."

   ~**_fin_**~

   *_wide eyes_* So, yeah. Please review. 

   ---Yami Jasper


End file.
